Through choked-back tears and weepy breaths, Natalie managed to express that she had something important to tell Helen and that she wanted to get it over with before getting out of the car. Helen could barely understand her, but she stayed put and rolled down the window for some fresh air. She handed Natalie some tissues from her purse and patted her hand. After fifteen minutes passed, Natalie was still unable to speak. By that time, Helen had already figured it out. Perhaps it was the confined space of the car’s interior that helped to focus her thoughts, or, more likely, somewhere inside, Helen already knew. Either way, the clues she had overlooked for years suddenly became obvious to her.
“It’s all right,” Helen consoled her. “I think I know. You’re in love with Johnny.” After she said it out loud, Helen couldn’t remember not knowing it. Had she purposely ignored the signs for her own selfish reasons? Natalie was miserable, inconsolable, all because of a decades-old secret that Helen couldn’t bring herself to tell. What kind of mother lets her child suffer like that?
“Sweetheart,” Helen said, as Natalie’s breathing returned to normal, “it’s going to be fine. Let’s go inside—I’m getting a crick in my neck sitting here for so long. Besides, I have a few things I need to talk to you about.”
Chapter 70
NATALIE
More surprising than the fact that her mother had guessed she was in love with Johnny was the fact that she didn’t seem phased by it one bit. Was Helen really going to be so supportive of the relationship? Was it all that simple? Natalie couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was going on. Even if Helen really understood about Johnny, why wasn’t she angry that Natalie had kept her in the dark for so long? Natalie supposed she’d have to tell her mother the whole story, no matter how convoluted.
Natalie walked into the house and dropped her overnight bag in a corner by the kitchen table. Ever since she had started college, the house had felt a little bit less like home each time she visited. She unzipped her duffle and pulled out a copy of her thesis. “I thought you might like a copy.”
Helen weighed the heavy bound volume in both hands. “It’s like a book! You didn’t tell me you wrote a whole book! No wonder you’ve been working so hard.”
“It’s really just a long research paper. Maybe I’ll write a book one day. I’m not sure anyone would want to read it, though.”
Helen flipped through the pages, but the equations and explanations were indecipherable to her. “Of course people will read it. Not ordinary people like me, maybe. But mathematicians will—professors and students. I’m going to read every page, even if I don’t understand a word. Did you make a copy for Mort? He’s dying to read it.”
“I have an extra for him. I’ll bring it to him tomorrow.” Natalie took a seat at the kitchen table and ran her fingers over one of the scratches in the yellow Formica. Helen filled a kettle with water from the sink. “I’m going to make us some tea. Sol brought over some Danish yesterday. How about one of those?” At the mention of her uncle’s name, Natalie could feel herself panicking again. She was worried about how Sol and Arlene would react.
“Do you think they’re going to understand? What are they going to say?” Natalie started to tear up again. “We want … we want to get married. We tried to stop ourselves from feeling this way, we tried, but it never worked. He’s the only boy … the only man that I’ve ever loved.” Natalie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Helen sat down, put one arm around her and rubbed her back like she used to when Natalie was little.
When the kettle whistled, Helen jumped up to fill the mugs. She brought them to the table, along with the white bakery box. Natalie didn’t touch the Danish.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Johnny before,” she said. “I don’t like keeping secrets from you.” When her mother didn’t reply, Natalie got nervous. Helen’s face was hard to read. She looked hopeless.
“We need to talk about Johnny,” Helen said. “We need to talk about a lot of things. After your father recovered from his first heart attack, I promised myself I would never let my … actions … hurt you or anyone. I got lucky with your father, but now … look what I’ve done. You’re being hurt, and it’s my fault.”
“Mom, you’re not making any sense. I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
Helen took Natalie’s hands in hers. “Sweetheart, I have to tell you a story. It’s a very long story about my life years ago, before you were born, before even some of your brothers were born. I need you to be patient with me. I need you to listen to the whole story before you say anything.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Don’t be scared. Will you listen?”
“Yes.”
Natalie listened. She listened to her mother talk about her life in Brooklyn, her friendship with Rose, Rose’s marriage to Mort. “You need to understand,” Helen told her, “Mort didn’t used to be the way he is now. Honey, he used to be awful to Rose. Every time Rose had another girl, he would say such cruel things to her. He ignored the girls and Rose, just to punish her for not giving him a son.”
“I can’t imagine Uncle Mort acting that way. Judith has told me some things, but it’s so hard to believe.”
“Judith knows better than anyone.”
“You mean, because he didn’t want her to go to college?”
“Partly. Of course, everything is different now. He’s so proud of Judith and what she’s accomplished. He’s proud of you too. But I want you to understand what it used to be like for us, for Rose and for me, when we were young mothers. Uncle Mort was so jealous of your father. And Rose, she got a little bit … smaller somehow, day by day. She was afraid of disappointing him.”
“But you and Daddy weren’t like that.”
“Never. Your father was a prince. Your brothers were a handful, though, with all the fighting and running around. Sometimes all I wanted to do was just go downstairs and be with the girls. Mimi would play dress-up and she used to love for me to do her hair. Dinah was little then, she only wanted to cuddle. And Judith … well, Judith was like a grown-up. Even when she was ten, I could talk to her. You were that way too, you know. Brilliant, both of you.”
Natalie smiled. “Let’s hope the thesis committee agrees with you.”
“Don’t worry about them. I’m sure they’re going to see right away what a genius you are.”
“Sure. Anyway, go on.”
“I know this sounds terrible, but sometimes your brothers would drive me crazy. Rose had three sweet little girls, and I was jealous because I knew they would all be close to her when they grew up and I would be alone. I used to worry that your brothers would all move away and get married to girls who hated me.”
“Meanwhile, Sam lives the farthest, and it’s only twenty minutes from here! And no one could ever hate you. Everyone loves you.”
“Well, I’ve been lucky. But back then I worried. Anyway, I was thirty-five when I got pregnant again. My grandmother used to say if a woman waited more than seven years between babies, her body changed and she’d have the opposite of whatever she had the last time. I thought for sure I’d have a girl.
“Rose got pregnant at the same time. Our pregnancies had overlapped before, but we never had due dates as close as that. We were so excited. Rose and I were like sisters back then. But she was worried. The whole time she was pregnant, she was scared of having a girl.”
“She told you that?”
“She didn’t have to tell me, honey. It was obvious. Uncle Mort was convinced they were having a boy. He called the baby ‘he,’ he told the girls they were having a brother, he told everyone who’d listen. He started paying more attention to Rose and the girls—and that only made her feel more pressured. I don’t think she would have been able to bear it, to disappoint him again.”
“Geez. Lucky for her she had Teddy.”
Helen’s face reddened. She looked away. There was something amiss in her silence. “Mom?”
“Natalie, Johnny isn’t your cousin.”
“What?”
“I don’t know how else to tell you. Johnny isn’t your first cousin. You love him and you’re going to marry him and have healthy babies and you don’t need to worry about those stories Arlene tells about her uncle’s children.”
“What are you saying?” Natalie stood up from her seat and started pacing across the kitchen floor. “What are you saying to me?”